


the moon has spoken

by gwuba



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: 7 month old baby as wingman, Bad Parenting, M/M, Matsukawa Issei in Love, Single Parent AU, THIS WAS SO RUSHED IM SORRY, anyway, because he said the f word, but he thought it was just a platonic crush, lowkey mutual pining but issei is oblivious
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-12 11:22:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29633883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gwuba/pseuds/gwuba
Summary: "I'm coming over. I don't trust you with the kid."He peered down at his body, clad in his crusty old polka dot pattern boxers, only then beginning to process what he had just heard. Hiro’s coming over, and Issei, as a major understatement, was not very well presented. A string of curse words nearly caught his tongue.
Relationships: Hanamaki Takahiro/Matsukawa Issei
Comments: 12
Kudos: 31





	the moon has spoken

**Author's Note:**

  * For [caandlelit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/caandlelit/gifts), [thebane](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebane/gifts).



> THANK U [AMES](https://archiveofourown.org/users/caandlelit) FOR THE PROMPT ILYSM EVERYONE GO CHECK OUT THEIR WORKS
> 
> also this was really rushed TYSM TO [KAY](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jsngies) FOR PROOFREADING THIS U'RE LIFE SAVIOR MWA  
> please try to enjoy, mtshn nation i know i didn't do them justice but hey <33

"Listen, I don't know what this monster is fucking saying."

Issei buried his head in his palms, ranting to his one and only best friend, always and eternally, Takahiro. It wasn't his fault. He never wanted a kid, especially when his career literally involved death and funerals. His ears were greeted with the familiar crackle of the voice on the other end of the line, "Can you not, like, say _fucking_ in front of the poor baby?"

"They're a baby. What're they gonna do, huh? Deck me? They can't even fucking walk," Issei contested lovingly. (Not sarcasm. He was fondly smiling at the little human in the crib despite what he said.) "And you also said it."

"She can't hear me though?" He could practically visualize Hiro's exaggerated gestures over the line.

"I put you on speaker. Stop yelling."

"Motherfucker—"

There was a faint giggle from the crib. Matsukawa cooed, smiling from ear to ear. Sundays were the best. "Practice what you preach, sweetheart."

"I'm coming over. I don't trust you with the kid."

He peered down at his body, clad in his crusty old polka dot pattern boxers, only then beginning to process what he had just heard. Hiro’s coming over, and Issei, as a major understatement, was not very well presented. A string of curse words nearly caught his tongue. "Wait, hold on, just one sec—"

"I'm still ten minutes away, take your time."

Bless the holy mother of God. Bless her Son. Thank thee for the ultimate blessing thou had bestowed upon thy humble servant.

Issei sprinted to his closet and quickly sifted through the myriad of old t-shirts in his closet, which were newly melded with the ones he had bought online from a sale. _Where the fuck, where the fuck is that one shirt he said looked cool, why do I have so many clothes-_

Four knocks on the door. Four was the number for death, he immediately thought. Issei cursed at himself.

He finally found that one aesthetic black shirt under the pile of his hoodies (he swore he didn't put it there. The apartment was haunted) and put it on so fast he had probably broken the world's record.

"One second!" he shouted, grabbing the nearest shorts he found and walking as he pulled them on, stumbling repeatedly along the way. "God, ten minutes he said, fucking ten minutes."

Issei already opened the door when he realized his shorts didn't compliment his shirt at all.

"What's taking you so long, bro, were you getting dolled up for me or something," Hiro deadpanned, holding the Starbucks paper bag.

"You bought Starbucks."

"I did, thanks for noticing." Hiro made his way inside, shoulder brushing against Issei's in the process. "Have you taught her to talk, yet?"

"You said you’re ten minutes away."

"What? Yeah, well, I’m fast,” the pink-haired man grinned, Issei thought it was stupid. 

Issei blushed. "Mizuki can only say goo goo ga ga. I did try teaching her to say papa, though."

"Oh. How old is she again?" Hiro took the drinks out of the paper bag. He bought Issei's drink.

Issei scratched his head. "Uh, I don't know? Thanks by the way."

"No problem, and what do you mean—wait, you don’t know?”

The baby wasn't Issei's, in his defense. He had a stable job, yes, but that didn't mean he was confident enough to _make_ a baby. His distant cousin accidentally got pregnant and chose to give birth, but they were still focusing on their career and whatnot, so Issei, a good and thoughtful man, offered to adopt the baby. It wasn't his fault the mother had forgotten to tell him Mizuki's birthday.

Takahiro slurped on his Matcha Latte, eyes on Issei, waiting for an answer.

"I don't know. They didn't tell me." was all Issei could say.

Hiro let out a sigh. "Just search on your message log the time they told you they were at labor?"

"Wait, that's genius."

Matsukawa walked back to his room, seeing this as a chance to switch out his yellow shorts. Did Hiro even notice? Would Hiro notice if he changed? _What a fucking loser_. Issei laughed to himself internally. Why the hell would he want to impress his platonic best friend who had survived witnessing him bawling to The Good Dinosaur?

He changed to a decent pair anyway, all the while doing what Hiro had told him to do. Why was Hiro curious anyway? That’s sus, he thought, as he typed “labor” on the message search bar in the all too familiar LINE app. Early July last year, to which he counted in his head, was almost eight months ago.

Eight months he had kept someone alive on his own money. He beamed. So _this_ was what his father had felt. 

Issei told his best friend about the wonderful discovery while excitedly drinking the hot vanilla latte the same best friend had paid for. It was a rare occurrence, okay, usually he was the one who paid for stuff since Hanamaki was still struggling to find a stable job. Call him a sap, but the thought of Hiro thinking of him as he bought Starbucks made his heart all mushy and soft he couldn’t stop smiling.

“Eight months, huh. She should be able to make out a word or two,” Hiro hummed. His eyes met Issei’s then. 

Issei suddenly choked on his latte.

It was really painful, he probably looked so bad clutching to his chest and doubling over, his body trembling as waves of coughing fits hit and didn’t stop after what felt like three hours. Hiro was staring at him more intensely now. “Hey, you okay? What was that?”

“Fuck,” Issei finally said and noticed how hoarse he sounded. “I’m fine—”

Another wave of a less intense coughing fit bubbled from his throat without warning. Hanamaki Takahiro, bless him, rushed to get a glass of water and gave it to Issei, his hand resting upon the other’s back to ground him. “Issei, hey, drink this—be careful what the fuck the baby’s crying what do I do—”

Issei wondered how his best friend knew that, because his ears just picked up the baby’s cries five seconds after Hiro pointed it out. _Hiro would be a cooler dad_ , he sighed. His body was gradually calming down and he took small breaths. 

The silence was awkward. Mizuki was wailing, Hiro was still towering over Issei’s fragile body, and Issei was just trying to say _I’m fine_ without having another coughing fit. He didn’t want to risk it.

“Stay here, okay? I’ll take care of her. Finish your water and collect yourself. I’ll be here.”

It was stupid. He was just choking on his vanilla latte because of the sudden eye contact that somehow felt so intimate his brain went into an error frenzy, yet here he was, tearing up dramatically because oh my god, Hiro said he’ll be here. He mentally slapped himself for being so sensitive.

Hiro had her in his arms—Issei was right, he looked so much cooler as a dad—as he walked out from the room, gently rocking her back and forth with a tiny smile on his face. “You don’t wanna sleep, huh? Your dad was noisy, wasn’t he?” Hiro bopped her nose fondly.

Issei’s chest tightened. Oh no—

“Uncle was just trying to visit your dad because he’s such a lonely loser, don’t you think?”

The baby giggled, as if she understood _and_ agreed. “I’m here, you know,” Issei groaned, though there was a hint of adoration in his gaze.

“But you gotta sleep, alright? Uncle Hiro is here to make sure he’s also taking care of himself, y’know?” Hiro whispered. Sun was almost setting and the orange hue of the sky encapsulated his smile; Issei decided he was in love.

_And if the moon could talk, it would tell of the many different nighttime activities that it sees from its vantage point, outside the house and high, high above._

“Pa… pa?” Mizuki spoke. Issei’s eyes widened, meeting Hiro’s same wide glassy ones. 

“Mizuki…?” Hiro stopped moving, and Issei was already at Hiro’s side. They glanced at each other, and back at Mizuki, who was trying to say something once more. 

“Hi… ro? Pa Hiro?”

Oh. _Oh._

Issei looked at him, his heart thumping aggressively against his rib cage and his brain on the verge of evaporation because holy fuck, the name Mizuki actually meant moon; the moon had spoken and her wish was his command and this whole situation was so messed up because Hiro was already crying and Issei had just realized minutes ago that all those years of “platonic crush” turned out to be just him falling in love obliviously because it was so _easy_ , and he was getting on one knee.

He was getting on one knee without a ring. He took a deep inhale. “Hiro, isn’t this the moment where we realize we should get married?”

The man in question was still standing with his mouth agape, staring at his best friend of more than a decade. “This better not be a fucking joke, Issei, you don’t know how many years I’ve been waiting—”

“Hold on, what?”

“Yeah, I’ve been flirting and in love with you for nine years, thank you for noticing,” Hiro laughed bitterly. “My friends kept telling me that you also like me back but you never showed me a sign, you know? Yet I realized that I’ve been in so deep to the point I don’t even care if you break me, Issei, I’ll still love you.”

It was his turn to say something. Issei stared at the other’s hand, wondering if he could have this serious conversation without crying. But he looked back up to his face; who cares if he cried? “Y’know, I’ve also been in love with you…” he frowned. _That sounded so lame._

“Go on,” Hiro sniffled.

“I’ll have you know that I would never break you, sweetheart, what the fuck?” Issei took a second to glance at the baby nervously. She had fallen asleep. “To be honest I never really knew I was romantically in love with you—don’t give me that look—and in my defense, we’re always kinda together and we never really dated other people before, so loving you felt as easy as breathing, I guess. Maybe too easy since I didn’t even realize it? Sometimes you look so good or you made me want to impress you in some ways, I always thought it was just a platonic crush—”

“What the fuck is a platonic crush?”

Issei groaned. “I know, it’s stupid, but it happened, and when you were holding Mizuki near the window, I knew. I knew I wanted to live with you for the rest of my life and kiss you and take you out on a lot of dates, and when Mizuki said the word it felt like God had given me His blessings to marry you and I’m convinced He doesn’t actually hate the gays.”

“Stand up, you moron, stand up, fucking—”

Issei stood up with a frown, like did he say something wrong or—oh, they were kissing.

Hanamaki Takahiro had told him to stand up so he could yank him by his collar into a kiss. Stains of tears painted Hiro’s cheeks and Issei melted into his lips; his hand tugging at the other’s hair and pulling him deeper.

“Heehee,” the baby made her presence known.

They pulled away that second and looked at her in horror. “Is she… is she even human?” Issei squeaked.

Hiro touched her fingers and she wrapped her hand around his pinkie. He stared in awe. “She’s a goddess, Issei. I love her.”

“I love you. Please marry me.”

“You’re so cheesy. I love you too. Also, take me out on dates first?”

“Okay,” Issei hummed, making his way back to the dining table where two Starbucks cups remained unfinished. 

Hiro put the baby back in the crib and joined his boyfriend? friend? fiancee? at the dining table. “Okay?”

“You bought me Starbucks.”

“You’re still processing that?”

“I don’t think I can stop processing the things you do to me, Takahiro.”

Hiro laughed. Sundays were the best.

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> thank u so much for reading kudos and comments are appreciated a lot ily !!!!!
> 
> u can find me at[twitter](https://twitter.com/vntisgf)


End file.
